two in the morning
by sydneysages
Summary: When he looks at her, he feels a cacophony of emotions. Unfortunately for Finn, they just happen to be the emotions associated with heartbreak. /Finchel, set in season two.


So this is my first Glee fanfic, and my first piece of writing for quite a while. It's canon partway through, but becomes canon divergent before the Christmas episode of season 2.

* * *

As he starts the walk down the aisle, every member of the audience staring directly at him, his heart stops. For a millisecond – actually, if he's being honest, it's for a damn sight longer than that – he allows himself to imagine that it's _his_ wedding, not his Mom's. That he's about to marry the most beautiful (and intelligent) girl he's ever met.

Then he breathes, snaps out of it, and starts to sing the introductory song for his Mom's wedding. He's got a million years to marry Rachel Berry, after all; there's only one day that he can give his Mom this day.

He starts to sing, pouring his heart and soul into the first verse of Bruno Mars' _Marry Me_, counting down the seconds, 3…2…1… until he can sing the words into Rachel's eyes.

She's stunning. It's lucky that his muscle memory lets him carry on singing the words because seeing her in that dress, with that bouquet, it's enough to make his brain melt.

Throughout the song, throughout the entire service, Rachel Berry is in the back of his mind. He can see her, smell her, hear her…he can practically taste her.

She is everything to him.

He can't imagine life without her.

After the opening number of the post-meal celebration, he approaches Rachel.

"May I have this dance?"

She smiles widely and extends her hand to him, spinning pre-emptively into his arms. As he catches her, she laughs, the sound striking chords in the depths of his heart.

"You know, I've gotta say that I quite enjoy this," Finn admits, pulling Rachel close into him. "Dancing, that is."

"Oh really?" Rachel replies, looking up at him through her eyelashes. It's endearing every time that he has to bend down to kiss her; the height difference should be laughable, but it just adds to the list of things that he thinks of when _Rachel Berry_ comes into mind. "And why's that?"

"Because it means that I'm close to you," he replies, a crooked half-smile forming on his lips. "And that's the best part of my day."

She reaches up to kiss him, and he thinks, _this happiness can never end_.

(It's incredible how wrong he could be.)

* * *

Within a week, the cacophony of emotions every time that he looks at Rachel Berry have changed. The first thing he thinks is, _wow, I love that girl_. The second thing is, _why can't I stop thinking about her?_ Then, he thinks, _why wasn't I enough_?

And again: _Why wasn't I enough?_

It would be easier to get over her if he didn't still love her, he theorises, or if he had the ability to leave the Glee Club. But he loves his friends and the club far too much to be able to distance himself from Rachel, despite knowing in his heart that it's probably the best option. Part of him wonders whether his reluctance to leave stems from an inner masochism, a desire to stay close to the person who has hurt him more than he thought possible.

After all, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. He should have seen it coming. He should have known that he couldn't have happiness with anyone, not without it coming back to bite him.

"You alright, Finn?" Mr Schue calls Finn back at the end of rehearsal one day. "You don't seem your usual self."

Clearly his teacher was the singular person who hadn't heard the news about the Finchel breakup.

"Yeah, fine," Finn replies, forcing a half smile to his lips. "Just…homework."

Mr Schue fixes him with a look that tells Finn that perhaps his teacher isn't as clueless about the situation as he had originally thought. "No other problems?" Mr Schue presses.

Dropping his bag to the floor, Finn sighs. "Yeah, well, me and Rachel broke up. Properly, I mean. She cheated on me…after everything that happened with Quinn, I thought that she would know how much something like that would affect me, you know? And she did it anyway. With _Puck_." Turning away from his teacher, Finn places his head in his hands, suddenly acutely conscious of the fact that he doesn't want to start crying in school. McKinley's walls have ears, and the news of Quarterback Finn Hudson crying would spread like wildfire.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Like shit," Finn admits. "I don't want to look at her, but I also don't want to be away from her?" He shakes his head. "Anyway, I should get to class. Thanks for the chat, Mr Schue."

His teacher says something but Finn ignores it on his way to geometry – pretty much the singular class he doesn't share with Rachel this year. He never thought that he'd be thankful for math, but today he is.

* * *

…

"Honey, are you okay?" His Mom's voice is gentle as she heads through the half-open door to Finn's bedroom.

It's been two weeks and three days since he broke up with Rachel, and every day feels harder to deal with than the last. Part of him is so desperate to give it up and take her back. The rest of him is angry still – both at her for treating him like garbage, and at himself for being so willing to want to be with her again.

The love for Rachel Berry that he had initially thought was a strength is seeming more and more like a weakness every day.

"I'm fine," he replies, his voice muffled by a pillow. "Just tired."

He can tell that his Mom doesn't accept that excuse by the fact that she crosses the room and takes a seat on the edge of his bed.

"You know that I've wanted to give you your space, so I haven't wanted to get involved before now," she begins, "but Finn, sweetheart, it's been two weeks."

He turns to her at this point, moving his head from the pillow for the first time in almost an hour. "So there's a two week expiry date on heartbreak?" He asks, sounding pathetically waspish even to his own ears. "Sorry," he mumbles, trying to force a half-smile onto his lips.

"It's alright, sweetheart, that isn't what I meant," she replies, reaching over and taking Finn's hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"

For the first time, Finn feels like he does.

He sits up, leaning closer into his Mom, as he talks. He tells her everything, from the way that Rachel made him feel during their relationship, to what he had done and her reaction, to how he felt when she forgave him, and finally to the confession she had made. It's a story of poetic love and _happily ever afters_ which are cut short by a deja-vu betrayal perpetrated by the ones he had loved the most.

Carole sits quietly through Finn's exposition of his feelings, until finally the story ends. He starts to cry again, and she pulls him into his arms the way that she has always done, offering him soothing words as he lets the emotions out. She doesn't falsely promise that everything will be okay, which he's thankful for: they've never lied to each other, and he certainly doesn't want this to be the moment that they start to.

"The question you have to ask yourself, sweetheart, is: can you forgive her?" Carole says softly, when Finn's calmed down, his head still against her chest. "Because if you can't, you know what your answer is about what to do – you need to move on."

"And if I can forgive her?" Finn murmurs.

"Then you need to think about whether you _want_ to move on with her," she replies, gently running her fingers through his hair. He wishes she wouldn't; that feels like a move too inextricably tied up with Rachel for the moment. "The decision is yours, sweetheart, take as much time as you need. But don't take too long; you're drowning in this at the moment, and that isn't healthy."

"I'm just so angry," he admits. "I can't think clearly about it because…because every time that I do, I want to throw something or to shout. It's like I'm trying to do anything _but_ think about it. Because I genuinely don't know what to do."

"Then that's your first mission," Carole replies, smiling slightly. "You need to get rid of the anger to let yourself think about it."

"But how?" Finn replies.

"I don't know," she admits, "but maybe your brother can help?"

* * *

.

Half an hour later, Kurt's in Finn's room in their new home for the first time. Although they've lived together for a month, Kurt agreed to keep his distance, so as to allow Finn to decorate it. For the same reason, Finn's stayed away from Kurt's room.

"I have to say, I'm shocked that you're inviting me up today, Finn," Kurt says as he steps through the threshold into Finn's room, closing the door neatly behind him. "I, er…I think it's very quaint." It's as diplomatic as he can be about the décor: Carole had warned him that it was better to say nothing than to be insulting.

"What does that even mean?" Finn replies, shrugging his shoulders. "Say what you want about it, Kurt."

"Whilst I'd _love_ nothing more than to have a conversation about the binders I've already prepared for your consideration, I think that there's something more pressing on your mind. Something small, annoying and Rachel Berry shaped?"

A half smile slips onto Finn's lips. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yeah," Kurt admits, "though also your Mom told me that you weren't handling the breakup that well. Which, I mean, we could all tell. Whoops, sorry, I wasn't meant to tell you that."

"It's fine." Finn sighs, leaning back on his bed and closing his eyes. Since when did everything get so complicated? Since when was he asking _Kurt_ for relationship advice? "Look, Kurt, I need your help. I'm struggling to decide what to do because every time I think about it, I just get so angry. I don't know how to stop myself feeling like that. Any ideas?"

Kurt thinks for a few moments, and the silence is excruciating. It might be the longest time that Finn's ever heard his brother be silent for.

"I can't believe that you haven't thought of this already, but how about you sing your feelings?" Kurt suggests, taking a seat gingerly on the chair in the corner of Finn's room. "That's always a good start."

Sitting upright, Finn shakes his head. "I'm not sure it'll work. Every time I think of singing at the moment, I just think about Rachel and the fact that we're going to have to duet together in the future, and it makes me feel even angrier."

"Hmmm," Kurt says, his expression vacant. "Well, how about you combine it with something else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you _have_ to sing it out – that's quite clearly the only logical solution. But how about you do it whilst boxing or something physical? Maybe playing football? Then you might be distracted enough to get through it without exploding from anger."

Finn thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. "Sounds good. Thanks Kurt."

"No problem," his brother replies. "If you need any help with the song, just let me know. I've got a _lot_ of anger-removing songs. Nothing quite for your situation though."

* * *

…

He feels stupid as he locks the door to the boxing room in the back of the football locker room before putting on his gloves. It's after eight; there's no chance that any of his football friends would be around to hear this – the only reason that he's able to be there is because he spoke to Coach Beiste about the situation, and she agreed to let him stay until nine. If he had asked himself a year and a half ago about how to solve a problem, he would have probably said to punch the person annoying him.

Now, he's punching something – and singing about his feelings. Maybe he should have asked Grilled Cheesus for some help.

As he starts to strike the punchbag, he opens his mouth and starts to sing. "_Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. Darlin' you give love a bad name_."

For every word that comes out of his mouth, he punches the bag, his movements getting harsher and more erratic as he reaches the pinnacle of the song. The anger is coursing through him, blinding his vision, as the image of Rachel and Puck forms in his mind. Punching harder causes that image to disappear, and he focuses on the words of the song, and how they reflect his feelings.

He repeats the chorus over and over again, until his hands are aching and he can barely stand up. His blood is pulsing, his heart racing, his breathing rapid and shallow.

And, for the first time in weeks, he can think of how he feels without wanting to punch something.

* * *

…

The anger doesn't go away entirely, but it's diluted enough to let him think with at least a vaguely clear head about what's going on.

He loves Rachel, but he hates what she did.

He loves Rachel, but he doesn't know if he can trust her again.

He loves Rachel, but he doesn't know if his heart can cope with her breaking it again.

When he sees her the next day, he can look at her without wanting to cry or rage about what she's done. She catches him looking at her, and can see the wariness fade from her expression when she sees that he looks calmer. Or something. He never quite knows what his face is saying.

She opens her mouth to speak, and he moves faster past her, staring at a point a good metre above her head. Whilst he's not consumed with anger, he certainly isn't at the stage where he's ready to talk to her about anything personal.

As he takes a seat in geometry, he resolves to put his feelings to a side, and see if the solution comes to him by itself. Even as he makes the decision, his Mom's warning comes back to mind: don't fester too long.

* * *

…

She's tried everything to get him to listen to her. She's tried songs and phone calls and _I'm sorry_ notes written on heart-shaped post-it notes, all to no avail. She's tried going full Rachel Berry as well as going against every instinct in her approach to him. She's even tried ignoring him, giving him the space he clearly wants, to see if absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Nothing's worked.

Everyone keeps telling her to give him time, to try and focus on something else whilst he comes to terms with it – or tells her that they're over forever. Her actions were wrong, inexcusable, and she knows that; it wasn't the right way to react to the news that he'd slept with Santana. But, in the heat of the moment, it was what she had decided to do: she now needs to lie in the bed she's made.

It's when she's sat in bed that evening that she realises the one thing she hasn't done is write him a letter. Sure, she's written notes, but that isn't the same thing as a full, heart-wrenching letter, is it?

It's twelve thirty in the morning, and she has school tomorrow, but Rachel knows that she won't be able to sleep until the words are committed to paper. Finding a pen and a completely clean piece of paper, she sits down at her desk, closes her eyes, and starts to write.

The words flow; soon, she's onto the second sheet of paper, and realises that she needs to be more concise. Nobody but her would read more than two pages of paper in an apology letter, after all.

Two am sees the letter complete, placed into a non-descript envelope bearing the name _Finn Hudson_, and Rachel back in bed. Her alarm is set, ready to drop the letter off before school at the Hudson-Hummel household, and she gradually falls into the world of slumber.

* * *

…

"Honey, there's a letter for you," Carole calls through from the hallway to the kitchen, where Finn and Kurt are eating breakfast. "It's handwritten. Do you want me to bring it?"

Finn calls through in the affirmative, secretly perplexed as to whom could have written the letter. His friends are much more of the texting variety, and it's too early for the letter to have been sent from anywhere other than Lima. Clearly, someone wanted him to get this letter this morning.

"Wonder who it's from," Kurt says, his expression betraying his unabating curiosity as Finn takes the letter from his Mom.

If it wasn't for the fact that the envelope is completely plain, Finn's first guess would have been Rachel. But he can't remember seeing a single piece of stationery belonging to her that isn't adorned in doodles or stars, so he discards that theory.

Well aware of his Mom and Kurt's eyes on him, Finn shoves the letter into the top of his school bag.

"I'll read it in study hall," he clarifies, knowing the implication is obvious: he wants to read it without having an audience analysing every change to his facial expression.

"But—" Kurt begins, before Carole silences him with a look.

"Alright, honey, well, I guess I'll see you later," Carole says swiftly, standing up and pressing a kiss to the top of Finn's head before he manages to escape.

* * *

.

It's a struggle to make it to study hall without opening the letter; the only reason he manages it is because he runs into Sam before school and forces himself to start a Football tactics conversation. Still, he heads in early, deciding to read the letter before anyone else is around to try and sneak a peek. As he sits down in his seat at the back of the room, he starts to shake, finally allowing himself to think about what the contents of the letter might be.

Putting himself out of his misery, he opens it, just to drop it straight on the table.

It's from Rachel.

A wall starts to rise around him; though it's metaphorical, it might as well be physical, as he can't see anything but the letter, written in her distinctive handwriting. He takes a deep breath as the wall finishes forming, the only thing that serves to protect his heart at this moment in time.

It takes five minutes for him to find the confidence to pick up the letter and see what she has to say. That it's a letter piques his curiosity; she's tried songs and phone calls and short notes, but none of them have managed to pierce his armour. That she's tried something else…well, he's curious as to what she could have said.

_Dear Finn,_

_I know that you want your distance from me, which is why I've written this down rather than trying to say it to you. I'm going to write it as truly from my heart as possible, so it might be a bit messy, so I'm sorry._

_I want to start by saying that I'm _so sorry_. Those words aren't enough, but searching my soul hasn't found any better ones. I haven't got any excuses for what I did, and I'm not going to try and justify it. I know why it hurt, and I know that I was an absolute idiot to throw away what we had together. You are my everything; you make me a better person, make me focus on things other than just how I can be the best person. You shine bright in my life, like a planet which shines a thousand times brighter than the brightest star, if that's possible. I haven't taken physics, so I don't know. Finn, you make my heart skip a dozen beats every time that I look at you. You are kind and caring and dedicated and incredible, and as I write this, I'm very aware of the fact that I don't deserve you._

_I love you so much, and I just wanted to tell you that I think that you are the best thing to happen to Lima – and the United States. But I also know that I hurt you, and for that I am so, so, so sorry. I understand if you can't forgive me._

_I swear this will be the last time that I try and tell you this. You need time to make your decision about whether you want to be with me, and I shouldn't try and influence that. But no matter what you decide, know that I am your number one fan, and I believe in you completely. _

_Rachel_

The thing that strikes him as the most odd is the fact that, for the first time since he met her, she didn't put a gold star next to her name.

She put it next to his.

As other students start to enter study hall, he slides the letter into his bag, focusing instead on his calculus homework. From the side of his eye, he can see Rachel sitting down on the other side of the room, casting him furtive glances and then looking away. She's clearly trying to see if he's reading her letter; when she sees his calculus homework, he can see a crestfallen expression fall across her face.

For the rest of the period, he outwardly focuses on his homework. Inwardly, he recites each line of her letter, the words soothing the chaotic storm swirling inside of him.

* * *

…

He's the first one into Glee Club that day, desperate to try and get a seat next to where Rachel normally sits. Unfortunately, she's late in, and takes the seat closest to the front.

He doesn't really focus on what Mr Schue has to say – something about a Christmas tree and a concert – though he mumbles his assent to something. He'll find out from Puck what he agreed to later, he guesses, as there doesn't seem to be any need for him to stand up right now.

Towards the end of the hour, Mr Schue asks them to get into pairs to perform a duet about an emotion. He isn't more specific than that, though Finn knows exactly what emotion he wants to sing about.

Before anyone else can move, he's stood up and moved across the room to stand next to Rachel.

"Do you want to sing together?" He rushes his words slightly, his eyes gazing directly into hers. His heart jumps a little when she says that she'd like that very much, and that's the sign that he's been looking for.

Brick by brick, his mental wall starts to crumble, until he's able to feel every emotion again, from love to hate, from forgiveness to betrayal. Rachel Berry is back in his heart – if she ever left, that is.

They walk out of the room together in silence, as he guides her towards the empty auditorium. She doesn't say anything, doesn't try and pre-empt his mood, which makes a change. He finds himself _missing_ her inane chatter; it's only then that he realises that what he felt was solely anger for the last few weeks was actually a painfully hard case of longing.

"So I read your letter," he says to start with, as she finishes turning on the lights.

"I'm glad," she replies, her tone hesitant.

"Yeah, it was really…really something else," he replies, not entirely sure on what he's saying. All he knows is that he always struggles with words and phrasing, but that he really wants to say _something_ that isn't a song. "I don't know if a planet can burn brighter than a star. Aren't planets stars anyway?"

"I don't know," she admits, "I haven't taken Physics yet."

"Oh yeah." He laughs a little, wringing his hands together. "Look, Rachel, I'm not going to lie and say that we can pretend that nothing happened, and go back to normal."

"It's okay, I understand," she replies quickly, interrupting his flow.

"But I do know that I'm crazy about you, and I can forgive you," Finn continues. "I mean, I've already forgiven you. I forgave you a long time ago, now I think about it. I was just angry, and that clouded all of my other emotions. But I love you, and—"

He's stopped from continuing along a sentence that had no apparent end by Rachel reaching up and kissing him, her lips tasting the same as they did at his Mom's wedding. Strawberry and cherry, that's the smell of Rachel Berry – ironically.

"I love you, Finn Hudson," she whispers as they break apart, her arms framing his face, his arms around her torso. "_You're_ the star."

"I love you too," he replies, feeling calm for the first time in weeks.

(She talks incessantly for the rest of the day, catching him up on everything that's happened with her Dads, Carole's delighted to see her at the Hudson-Hummel home that evening, and Finn feels like nothing can stop him.)

* * *

Let me know what you think!


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